


His Joey

by missjustkeepwriting



Series: Charlotte Prentiss [3]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Bullying, Domestic, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missjustkeepwriting/pseuds/missjustkeepwriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer goes to pick up their daughter from preschool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Joey

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Criminal Minds.
> 
> Joey refers to a kangaroo young, not a boy's name.

He shakes his head at the thesis’s vagueness; he hates teaching the freshmen classes. It’s as if high schools no longer teach students how to write. He circles the sentence and scrawls ‘Be specific,’ next to it. He never tries to fix the sentences; they’ll never learn that way. He tries to be helpful without rewriting the paper for them. This is the worst part about teaching philosophy; the fucking awful papers. Once in a blue moon, there’s a stellar one, but rarely does he see it. Derek always says that’s because he’s the genius. His classes are always the hardest ones to pass, but then again the most rewarding and helpful.

                His fingers itch to text Derek who is away on a case or Emily who is at a meeting with her editors in New York City; his love for paperwork has dwindled when it comes to reading repetitive drivel. He’s being petty, but their lack of effort disturbs him.

                He sets his phone down and concentrates on the student’s pathetic attempt at analyzing Nietzsche. He thanks his lucky stars when his phone chirps obnoxiously.

                “Hello?” He answers.

                “Mr. Reid, this is Mrs. Warner at Potomac View Elementary School. I am calling about Charlotte Prentiss.” 

                “Is everything all right?”

                “I tried to contact her parents,” Spencer holds back his heavy sigh. There is a heavy tone of insinuation that the principal refuses to consider that their relationship could mean that he is also her father. “Charlotte is inconsolable, refuses to return to class, and is currently crying in my office. She’s not currently injured.”

                “What happened?”

“It’s not entirely clear, Mr. Reid. Charlotte seems to have gotten into an altercation with another student.”

“Dr. Reid,” he says stiffly, “May I speak to her?”

                “She’s refusing the phone, Mr. Morgan and Ms. Prentiss both asked to speak with her.”

                “I’ll come get her.”

                It’s the longest 48 minutes he’s had in a long time. Every car that pulls out in front of him is cursed heavily under his breath. He finally pulls into the parking lot and rushes to the front door. The front desk forces him to show an ID and get a badge, and in most circumstances he would be grateful for the security, but it just frustrates him. His little girl is upset and he feels so far away when he’s probably mere yards. He’s ushered immediately to the principal’s office. He knocks and a woman in her fifties opens the door.

                “Dr. Reid?”

                “Yes,” he responds, and he hears a tiny sob of relief.

                Mrs. Warner ushers him inside and he’s hit by a warm, snotty koala. He doesn’t see her face, but he can feel his shirt get damp. He wraps his arms around her, kisses her bonnet of curls, and sends the woman a steely glance.

                “What exactly happened, Mrs. Warner?”

                “Charlotte and another student got into a verbal altercation, Charlotte got angry, yelled at the other student, stalked away, and then began to cry.”

                “Charlotte does not have tendencies for hysteria, so my question is why was she so upset?”

                “They were discussing families today.”

                Spencer wonders why she didn’t say so earlier. It’s clear what the problem was. His arms constrict tighter around his daughter. The inane things she had to listen to are probably wreaking havoc on her psyche.

                “Have you figured out what was said?”

                “Charlotte will not speak and the other student’s statement seemed rather innocuous.”

                “What did the other child say?”

                “He merely said, ‘People can only have two parents who sleep in the same bedroom.’”

                Charlotte sniffles a little bit harder and Spencer’s jaw tightens.

                “Is it policy here to encourage the bullying of your students based on the unconventional choices of their parents?”

                The principal sputters and Spencer holds her gaze until she breaks it in shame.

                “That seems rather immature, unprofessional, and wholly inappropriate that you are not above the short-sightedness of a child.”

                “You have to admit, Dr. Reid, that you knew this was going to happen.”

                “My daughter,” his emphasis tells her he’s not backing down, “should not be subjected to your ridicule for having three loving and involved parents who have shown nothing but support for this school. I will now be taking Charlotte home; I hope by Monday your school will reconsider its policy on bullying within the student population, faculty, and administration. For your sake, I hope you come to the realization that your flagrant disregard for such behavior and your own role in it is not only unprofessional but reprehensible.” 

                Spencer doesn’t get to enjoy the stupefied look on the woman’s face because he is marching out of the building, his little joey latched tightly to his sweater vest.

                They drive home in relative silence; Charlotte’s shaky breaths the only noise. They arrive home and Luther greets them. Charlotte cracks a little smile as Luther licks her face, but her solemn expression returns and she heads for the living room.

                “Charlotte, what happened?”

                “He said you weren’t my papa and that having a mama, daddy, and papa is wrong, but he wouldn’t stop saying that so I yelled.”

                “Did he hurt you?”

                “Yeah, he was mean.”

                “Did he touch you?”

                “No.”

                “Did you hurt him?”

                “No, you, Daddy, and Mama always say not to hit people. But I wanted to, Papa, I really wanted to hurt him.”

                “I’m glad you didn’t.”

                “Papa, why did they say you were yucky?”

                “Some people just don’t understand. How did it make you feel?”

                “I was mad and sad. Mad because he said you weren’t my Papa and sad because he was being mean to me.”

                “What did Miss Thomas say?”

                “She said that he shouldn’t talk about other people’s families rudely.”

                “Well that’s good. Charlotte, I’m afraid this is going to happen a lot, but you will always have Daddy, Mama, and me to help you and love you.”

                “I know, Papa.”

                Without encouragement and cajoling from Spencer, she curls into his side. Her hand gripped in the knitted material; her face pressed into his rib cage. He caresses her hair and back with methodic hand motions. They read a few books and Spencer gets up to make dinner. He makes her favorite, spaghetti and meatballs.

                Emily rushes in the door as they’re twirling noodles onto their forks. She looks at Spencer who gives her a small smile. She presses a kiss to Charlotte’s forehead and squeezes Spencer’s arm.

                “Hi, baby.”

                “Hi, Mama.”

                “I heard today wasn’t such a great day.”

                “Yeah, but Papa made it better.”

                “Papa’s good at that.”

                “I’m done, can I go play?”

                “Take your plate to the sink.”

                “Okay.”

                Emily sets her chin on Spencer’s head and closes her eyes.

                “It’s only going to get worse,” he whispers.

                “I know what you’re thinking.”

                “You do?”

                “You’re thinking that it would be easier on her if she only had two parents.”

                His silence is the only response she needs. She kisses his head.

                “You know that’s wrong; you’ve got to know you’re wrong. I know you’re wrong. She needs all of us.”

                “Okay, okay.”

                “This looks good; I’m starving.”

                She sits down to eat and the phone rings. She sighs, but Spencer brushes her off and answers it.

                “Hello?”

                “Pretty boy, how’s our little girl?”

                “Better.”

                “Are you blaming yourself?”

                “No,” he nearly stutters.

                “Don’t do it. I love you.”

                “I love you, too.”

                “Good, can I talk to her?”

                “Of course,” he says and calls for her, “Charlotte, Daddy’s on the phone.”

                “Daddy,” she squeals as she sprints down the stairs.

                “Hi, Daddy,” she shouts into the phone.

                Charlotte’s side of the conversation is a lot of nodding, which Derek can of course not see, and yes’s and no’s. She’s still smiling when she says, “I love you too.”

                She hands the phone to Emily and runs to Spencer. She wraps her arms tightly around his legs. She crooks her finger at him and he stoops down. She kisses him on the nose.

                “Daddy said to say he loves you and this is a kiss from him,” she says smacking her lips to his, “And I love you too, Papa.”

                “I love you.”

                “I’m going to go to school tomorrow.”

                “Great.”

                “It doesn’t matter what mean people say; they don’t understand, but my friends will. And you, Mama, and Daddy love me.”

                “That’s right.”

                It was a recitation of something Derek said, but it makes him happy to hear her say it.

                “Papa, isn’t _Myth Busters_ on?”

                “Yes, let’s go watch.”

                They curl up on the couch. Emily joins them after a few minutes, cuddling into Spencer’s side. She kisses his neck and tickles Charlotte’s side. They watch the teams work. The peals of giggles at something blowing up in Adam’s face relieve some of Spencer’s tensions, and Emily’s kisses do the rest. When the myth is busted, Charlotte chugs up the stairs. Spencer still does bedtime, so he kisses Emily and goes to read Charlotte a story.

                After tucking her in and a heartfelt goodnight, he goes to the master bedroom. Emily’s already there, naked.

                “Spence, come to bed,” she coaxes softly.

                His body reacts, almost immediately. He removes his clothes quickly, crawls under the covers, and she wraps herself around him. She takes control with a swift movement of her hand on him, she guides him to her entrance, and they move in unison. Her hips meet his jarringly. He orgasms; she thrust through it, reaching down to rub her clit. She comes with a sated sigh; her warmth holding his flaccid penis within. They stay tangled for a while. She kisses his skin reverently.

                “Remember, we’d be nothing without you.”

                It hasn’t been a daily anxiety for him in a while, but with Charlotte at school, it has escalated. He knows she’ll be bullied for it; children are cruel regarding situations that they don’t understand. His daughter being bullied is his hugest concern. He definitely doesn’t know if he can be the cause. And while, Derek has never once been anything but I loving and kind partner since that day; Spencer can’t help but remember it some days.

                They love him; he knows that. He also knows that bullies are cruel, and they don’t need him. That he adds a significant burden to their social situation; he’s too weak to leave now. He’ll stay as long as they’re all happy he’ll stay because he’s not strong enough to leave them. Too weak to care. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love feedback!


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